


The Chiss and the Farmer

by MortisBane



Category: Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Day 3, M/M, Thrantober, prompt: Harvest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-07 23:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21226175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MortisBane/pseuds/MortisBane
Summary: Every year the Chiss would watch the Farmer's crops, but be gone before winter came.Eli's just a lonely farmer wishing for the day his Chiss will come to protect his crops.





	The Chiss and the Farmer

There was a story Eli always heard growing up on his family’s farm. A story of a Chiss who would protect a Farmer’s crops each season, and in exchange, they would share a great feast at the end of the harvest. After the feast the Chiss would leave, return to his home and would not return for another year. Each and every year, the Chiss would return, standing vigilant in the field, scaring off crows and other animals so that the Farmer would get back everything he planted.

The years grew long, the Farmer aged, but the Chiss always looked the same. The Farmer began slowing, planting less, harvesting less, he couldn’t keep up with his job as well as he could before. At that year’s feast, the Chiss asked the Farmer,

“Why not take a wife, have a son who can take over for you?” It was the logical course of events, it was how he got the farm, how his Pa had gotten it before him. The Farmer only smiled sadly, looking down at his plate.

“Because no woman has ever caught my eye. Only one being in this wide open galaxy has ever grasped at my heartstrings like my Ma did to my Pa.” The Chiss tilted his head to the side, the only indication that he had to show he didn’t understand.

“Who is this being?”

“A scarecrow.” He looked on at the Chiss, the Chiss looked back, but he did not understand. Did not see the meaning in the Farmer’s words. The feast came to an end, the Chiss returned home and the Farmer back to his life alone on his farm.

The next year, the Chiss returned, only to find the farm empty, the fields barren, the farmhouse empty. Nothing but an empty plot of land, nothing living, nothing growing. The Farmer had fallen ill, and with no one to care for him, he died with no heirs to his farm, so it was closed and abandoned.

Within the farm house, the Chiss found a single letter, written just for him. The Farmer proclaimed his love for the Chiss, his scarecrow, in the letter, and the Chiss finally understood. The Farmer never took a wife, because he loved no one but the Chiss, and took no heirs because he wanted the Chiss to have his farm. Wracked with guilt and grief, the Chiss carried out the Farmer’s final wish, running his farm for him, planting the crops, scaring away the crows, harvesting, then feasting alone. So went the Chiss’ life until the end of his days.

Eli recounted the story to himself as he completed his project. Constructing his own scarecrow, just as in the story, with a pumpkin for a head, carved and painted blue. Black clothes on it’s stick body and stuffed with hay. His father passed away a few months ago, leaving his farm and all its land to Eli in his will. So, like the Chiss in the story, Eli took up the task of his Father’s farm.

It was hard and lonely work, and each day was a battle with the crows and small animals that would eat at his crops before they were ready for harvest. So this scarecrow was his solution. The story of the Chiss and the Farmer was always endearing to him, especially growing up on the farm as a kid. He would spend many nights staring out his window, waiting to see a Chiss come from the sky and stand in the middle of the field, protecting the crops. But, of course, stories were just stories, and no Chiss ever came, so he’d make his own.

Taking his creation out into the field, he planted him in the center, overlooking all his crops, standing tall and proud. He was a little crude looking, maybe a little silly, seeing as though Eli went through all the effort of painting a pumpkin blue, but it was an effort of love, and all by hand. He could only hope it would work at protecting his crops.

“How do you like your new post Thrawn?” He spoke to the scarecrow. The name Thrawn was something he’d come up with as a child, naming the unknown Chiss he was waiting for in their field, and the sentiment seemed to have stuck with him. Of course, the scarecrow didn’t answer him, not that Eli had expected it to.

“It’s not much, but I’m just starting out. This was my dad’s farm, but I think you and me will do a good job here. I’m counting on you.” He smiled up at the lifeless doll, and despite knowing there wasn’t a soul to hear him for miles, he felt a little less lonely.

Every day Eli would go about his duties. Letting the chickens out, cleaning animal pens, feeding them, milking the cows, tending to the crops, and every time he passed by Thrawn, he’d talk to him. Simple things, the weather, his jobs, complimenting Thrawn’s handiwork at protecting the crops each night. On particularly chilly days, Eli would bring out a scarf, wrapping it around the wooden stick neck below the pumpkin head. All purely sentimental actions, ones he knew the inanimate object couldn’t appreciate, but it made him feel warmer in the chest, and helped ebb away the loneliness in his heart.

One day, when Eli had come out into the field, he found Thrawn turned toward the farmhouse, when he had previously been turned away. The night hadn’t been particularly windy, and the stake Thrawn was on should be embedded well into the ground so that he stayed put. It was odd, but other than some drunken teenagers trampling through and trying to play a prank on Eli, there was no explanation for it. He turned Thrawn back around, giving the scarecrow a smile and went back about his duties. The next day Thrawn was right were Eli left him.

The next night, Eli had stayed up much later than he usually would sifting through stacks of bills needing to be paid. Unless he got a good return on the harvest this first year, he might not be able to pay all these and would be at a loss of how to acquire more funds. He didn’t want to lose his father’s farm right after getting it, all it would prove is that he’s a failure to the dead. As he made his way up to his bedroom, prepared to climb into bed, he caught sight of the field through the window, and found Thrawn missing. The stake he was on was still embedded in the ground, but the scarecrow itself wasn’t upon it. He cursed, throwing on his boots and jacket, swiping his blaster, and running out into the field. He couldn’t hear anyone moving about, or any talking, but he couldn’t be certain what could be out there. More likely than not, the scarecrow just came off in the wind, if not, then there could be trespassers on his land.

However, when he made it to the field, there Thrawn was, up on his perch. He hadn’t moved an inch, right where he had been earlier in the day, facing the same direction. Eli stared up at him, wracking his brain, because he knew what he’d seen, there was no way he’d just not seen Thrawn, right? He looked down at the ground beneath Thrawn, there was some hay scattered about, more than usual, but nothing alarming. Thrawn’s right leg did look a little deflated.

“I think I’m goin’ crazy.” He chuckled, running a hand over Thrawn’s leg. “First you start turning around on your own, and now I’m seeing things, or I guess not seeing things. I could have sworn you weren’t up there.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, as if the scarecrow could judge him. “It’s late but, let me get some more hay for your leg, don’t go anywhere, ya here?” He laughed to himself, but felt an uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. Maybe his loneliness really was getting to him. Once he’d fixed Thrawn back up, he finally crawled into bed for the night, and come morning, he’d completely forgotten the scare from the night before.

The month continued winding down, his crops getting closer and closer to harvest, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He performed his daily duties with no problems, Thrawn stayed put, and every night, Eli made sure that he was on his stake before going to bed. Everything went on normally, up to the final day of the harvest season. The last of his crops had come in, and his full hull was accounted for. The return on his first season was much higher than he’d expected from the rocky start with the crows. As long as everything sold at the going rate, he’d have more than enough to pay his and his dad’s debts.

“Good work Thrawn, I knew we’d make a great team.” He said up to the scarecrow as he came back with the last of the harvest. “The days are gonna start getting colder, and since I won’t really have anything growing out here, maybe I’ll move you into the barn so you don’t get cold. Though, I guess Chiss are supposed to like cold.” He smiled at the blue pumpkin which wore the same carved, spiky toothed grin Eli had given it.

With one final trip to town to finish up his deals with the locals, he went home. He’d sold all his crops and put an end to the harvest season. With his Chiss scarecrow, maybe Eli really could run this farm on his own, and get along just as well as his father had. He’d do it, so long as he had Thrawn to watch his crops and his own determination, it was all manageable.

The next night, Eli prepared himself a large dinner to celebrate the successful harvest. Just like in the story of the Chiss and the Farmer, only he was alone. Setting the table for one, it reminded him of how truly alone he was on this farm, his best companion was a pile of clothes stuffed with hay standing out in his field. He tried to not let the loneliness get to him, but staring across at an empty chair didn’t help.

Just as he’d begun to dig into his feast, there came a knock at the door. No one knocked on his door, no one came out this far for any reason anymore. The sound was so rare, Eli almost didn’t recognize it as a knock at all. His heartbeat picked up as his thoughts raced. The scenarios ran from a passerby who’s speeder broke down to a door to door murder salesman. Grabbing his blaster, Eli approached the door, and opened it cautiously.

“Hello?” He answered, peering outside, only to come face to face with someone who was both familiar and a stranger. A Chiss was on his doorstep, blue face with angular features, slicked back blue-black hair, dressed in the exact black clothing that Eli had dressed his scarecrow in, and looking at the sleeves, Eli saw pieces of straw sticking out. Had this alien taken the clothes off his scarecrow?

“Eli Vanto.” The Chiss spoke, giving him a deep bow. “I have come for our feast.”

“O-Our feast?” He opened the door a bit more, eyeing the blue man suspiciously.

“Yes, as you told in your story, I protected your crops, and in return we dine together at a feast.” He looked the Chiss up and down slowly, and the Chiss gave him a small smile, showing off pointy teeth underneath his lips.

“T-Thrawn?” He asked, hand tightening on his blaster.

“Yes.” Eli looked over the Chiss’ shoulder, out into the field, and found his scarecrow missing from his perch.

“You’re my scarecrow?”

“You asked for my help protect your field, I did just that, for you.” Eli dropped his blaster grabbing his head and rubbing his temple, suddenly feeling very light headed.

“This is impossible, you’re just a scarecrow, a pumpkin, clothes and hay! You can’t be...a real Chiss!” Thrawn reached out, cupping Eli’s face between his hands and Eli let him.

“You’re kind words, your endless love gave me the will to be real, you made me this way Eli, and I pledge myself to protecting your farm.” Eli looked into the glowing red eyes surrounded by blue flesh, feeling the heat from the man’s hands on his face. This was a real Chiss, it was his real Chiss. Taking a few deep breaths, he calmed himself, no use denying the validity of his words when proof was just before his eyes.

“Would you care to join me for our feast?” He said, giving Thrawn a smile.

“I would greatly appreciate it.”

So Eli the Farmer and Thrawn the Chiss sat for their first harvest feast of many to come. He didn’t completely understand how, or why, but Eli couldn’t deny having another living soul to talk to was far more rewarding than a lifeless scarecrow. At the end of the night, Eli feared that Thrawn would turn back into a scarecrow, or leave him for the next year, like in the story, but to his surprise, Thrawn stayed.

“We do not want to repeat the mistake of the Chiss in your story.” Was his reasoning, and Eli went about setting up a room for Thrawn to stay in the house. From then on, the two were a team, sharing the duties of the farm day in and day out. Soon enough it became less Eli’s farm, and more their farm. Every night, they would dine together and retire in the same home. As the days turned to weeks, to months, the distance between them grew smaller and smaller, until they shared the same bed each night.

The next harvest came and went, Thrawn standing watchful guard in the field, and they would feast again together. Thrawn never left his side. They were together, they were happy. Eli always loved the story of the Farmer and the Chiss, but he much preferred his and Thrawn’s version much better, because a farm nurtured under two pairs of loving hands bloomed better than under a single pair.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thrantober Day 3! This one a bit shorter than the others and more fluffy than spooky, but I still hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Stay Wizard  
~[Mortis]()


End file.
